Circle
by Chesiere Cat
Summary: It was November 20, 2092. Young Nobuchika was turning 8 in less than 24 hours. What, then, would be his birthday wish? Introducing Ginoza's first (and hopefully not last) girlfriend, Makishima's past, and Kougami's very first heroic deed.


**Title: **Circle**  
Pairing: **No real pairing. Very mild Kougami/Makishima if you squint. **  
Rating: **PG, pretty much worksafe**  
Warning: **Cross-dressing and implied pedophelia

**Note: **This was written as a birthday present for Itakoaya. And since her birthday is the same as Ginoza's, I have decided to combine her request of shota!Makishima with what I had in mind. The result is this one not-so-little fic.

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**Circle**

_There was a girl sitting alone in the playground._  
_A little girl sitting so still like those stone statues in the shape of angels,_  
_He remembered her; white as snow in the empty yard —_  
_A beautiful phantasm that soon melted away that late November._

**I. November Snow**

The weather forecast promised snow early that November. The air was chilling and the wind felt like it could bite with fangs of frost. It had not snow yet, but on his way home, he could see how the news had left the streets almost empty. His breath left white wisps hanging behind like clouds in the sky as he paced faster, wrapping his scarf more securely for additional warmth. He missed already the mouth-watering waft of his mother's cooking even though he had saved from school the popular and to-die-for melon bread.

His house was just around the corner, but before getting there, he had to pass the playground. On warmer days, there would be a number of children crowding the space with some anxious parents persistently observing. Yet, on that day, nobody seemed to want to loiter, and most people — parents as well as kids — were heading straight home.

Across the street, a traditional bookstore was closing. Either they closed early because it was unlikely to get more customers on a day like this or they were closing it for good, he could not exactly tell. It was rare people read paper books these days. The newer ones were only available in electronic format while the older ones were already digitalized. Young Nobuchika could not say he was that much of a book person, but somehow, seeing that traditional store close was kind of disheartening.

In a way, he could say his father was very fond of doing things the old way, and that store was how people like his father connected to the old, fading world.

He let his eyes linger a little while longer on that particular store as its old-fashioned door slowly slid close. Letting out a puff of sigh, the boy turned, going back on his way. The playground appeared vacant and lonely. Even the swings children loved to vie for seemed to be swung only by the ghosts. And even the laughter of those ghosts turned silent when his gaze wandered.

There was something out of ordinary.

For there, in the should-be empty playground, sat unmistakably…a little girl.

.

_It was November yet the month could not deter a summer dress._  
_He sat alone — a conspicuous contrast in the playground._  
_A boy in a dress, wearing summer wear for winter,_  
_He wondered if the snow would make his hue much less white._

**II. Summer Dress**

That store was closing down — his father's favorite. Another place so precious had shut forever its door just like the memories of his father — gradually fading in time, for he had been too young to remember all of them. For he was too young to remember the warmth and love of the embrace, to retain the exact feeling and save it for when he grew up. His late father had taught him how to read paper books. So it was these books that connected him to the distant yet happier past.

He did not know why his mother disliked the idea of cherishing paper books. No — in fact, she disliked the idea of it all — how his father always clung to the old way. 'Were you not the one that push forward the system? Why couldn't we remain in the comfort and light of the city? Why do we have to move to this boring countryside?' She always asked. She did not like it. And thus, when his father passed away, she immediately remarried. She remarried to return to the world of glory.

After that came his foster father — the foster father who always gave him gifts. He had given him so much gifts, so much time, and so much care that his biological mother had always neglected.

Still, there was that hole that could not be completely filled left.

He did not know how his mother had come to hate him. She had loved him once, as he vaguely remembered, in his earlier years of life.

His foster father had given him beautiful summer dresses, then new shirts and skirts in fall, and he promised some more gifts for winter, and more and more the next spring. His foster father was easily pleased like when he let him plait his long silver hair. He said he loved his silky silver hair, for it was pretty and idiosyncratic.

Contrastingly, his mother would be disgusted. 'Cut it! Cut it!' She would shriek, but his foster father never let her cut it.

That day, they fought again, so the little boy fled. He felt suffocated in his room where his psycho-pass was always measured. His mother hated it that his hue was constantly pure white.

So in that summer dress, he fled, fleeing to his favorite part of town that at the time seemed like the only sanctuary.

Only that…the door to that sanctuary was forever closed.

So silently, he sat, waiting for the snow in the playground. Perhaps if the snow looked purer, his mother would hate him less.

October that year [1], he had just turned seven. Already, Shogo felt so lonely…as if he was alone in this world.

.

_The scent was fresh. The scent was clean._  
_It was undeniably sweet._  
_Back then, that scent was pure —_  
_Without the stench of blood._

**III. Spring Rose**

They had already closed the door, and the world reduced to a crammed space of books and dust. Eight-year-old Shinya had never visited that part of town. Tokyo, to him, was a big city, and this trip widened his eyes as well as ignited the desire to investigate this part's vicinity. His mother's best friend would soon be moving to another province. Aunt Yoshida, as he called her, owned a traditional bookshop, and she certainly needed help in packing and relocating things. As they would more rarely see each other again, Kougami Tomoyo did not hesitate to offer to assist.

Aunt Yoshida's shop was small, yet she had a substantial amount of stuffs. Nevertheless, she insisted to take all the books with her. That was after she had offered Tomoyo and Shinya to take any pick that they wanted.

They had just finished packing for the day when he noticed the playground across the street. Looking through the somewhat misty window, it was almost startling — even to himself — to spot a girl in a summer dress. The temperature was near freezing, and the girl, being so petite and in such thin clothing, did not even wear her shoes. It was strange, he observed, for the dress looked expensive, and the girl herself so clean and pampered that it was more likely her family could afford the price.

She could be a ghost — the more superstitious part of his proposed its rationale. Yet, curiosity attracted not just cats but also keen-nosed dogs. Seeing that his mother was busy talking to Aunt Yoshida, he slipped out the door.

November breeze hit him first as he neared the place. Next was the scent like that of a spring rose most likely belonged to that little girl in the yard. The boy blinked and sniffed his own arm, young mind wondering how someone's scent could be that easily sensed…as if the fragrance of that sweet rose was there for him…to catch and trace.

It was then that he noticed another boy approach. He blinked and decided first to observe.

.

_Her smile was sweet, her voice melodic._  
_He had never met anybody so charming._  
_The older boys were boasting of their pretty, pretty girlfriends._  
_Even now, he still thought it a miracle —_  
_For him to have the guts to ask her._

**IV. Girlfriend**

Nobuchika knew he should be going home. He knew his mother would start to worry if he returned late. Then, if he wasted more of his time, his father would also be home and start worrying too. And yet, Nobuchika could not stop himself. It was difficult to turn away from an enigma.

Also, his father had always taught him to be a gentleman to women. And so he approached…even though he had no idea how to start talking. It was rare he talked to a girl. It was even rarer he talked to a girl so pretty.

Instead, he offered her his prized melon bread. "A-are you hungry?" He heard himself stammer.

The little girl looked surprise. Her eyes, like melting ambers, seemed to bore into his, making him stiffen before they shifted to the melon bread.

"Why are you kind to me?" She asked, sweet voice dimming in the crooning wind of winter. Even so, he still heard her fairly well.

"I-isn't it normal to be kind to someone?" He blushed, then quickly add: "My father teaches me to be kind to women."

He did not know which part he said had caused it. The little girl's eyes widened slightly as if in surprise. The surprise element was short-lived, though. For the next moment, the silver-haired girl burst out laughing. Before he could ask, though, she spoke, her voice smooth and soft like velvet:

"So he teaches you to be kind to women. What about men? Do you have to be kind to men too? Or you only have to be kind to women?"

The question made him think.

"If I _am_ a boy, _will_ you still be as kind?"

And he racked his brain, thinking of all those things he had heard his father said. All his teaching and all those things he spoke of his work — either to his mother or muttering to himself — he tried to pick the perfect piece from those. He wanted to appear to her smart. And those smart and witty were lawyers. Now, what did his father say about words favorite to lawyers?

Instead of replying with words he was trying to grasp, he found himself asking:

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

The words were 'including and not limited to', but it was too late to go back to the question. Nobuchika's face reddened; he blamed those older boys for having instilled those thoughts about pretty girlfriends in his mind these past few weeks.

For Nobuchika could not deny his stupid wish: He wished for a lovely girlfriend for his coming birthday.

.

_He remembered that boy's question —_  
_So innocent yet so ironic that he wanted to laugh._  
_That one little boy whose father meant his world —_  
_In twenty years time,_  
_Who knows it would be his 'girl' that caused the death of his father._

**V. The Fall**

The melon bread still tasted sweet on his tongue as he let the older boy lead him to his house. The boy had forgotten to even tell him his name, yet he had asked him to be his 'girlfriend' because of how he dressed. Yes, Shogo did laugh. Everyone in his situation would because of the older boy's kindness and innocence. He lied to him he could not go home, and the boy was so fast to believe him…to offer him a place to stay. To a place he called 'home'.

The boy's home sounded like a boring place without Fujiko F. Fujio's Doraemon manga, and yet any place was definitely much better than his own place — he wondered if he could still call the place 'home'. He let the boy hold his hand. And the boy wrapped around his exposed neck his cotton scarf.

It was warm…

The boy's mother received him so well without much questioning. By the time they started dinner, the boy's father had arrived. On first sight, he was a bulky man whose striking feature was that mechanic arm. "He lost his arm in a heroic event trying to catch an evil criminal!" The boy supplied proudly.

The father laughed heartily. "Now, now, Nobuchika, you are talking too much in front of your girlfriend!"

Yet it was not the arm that was as striking with more and more passing moment as the man's eyes.

This place was warm…

"What is your name, girl? And where do you live? What made a little angel like you accept becoming Nobuchika's girlfriend?"

"Dad! No more of that!"

And more and more, he lied.

In a way, Shogo envied this Nobuchika boy.

For his loving father whose warm and somewhat tired eyes lay the scrutinizing ability far better than the ordinary. For his sweet mother whose embrace melted away sorrow and loneliness. For his happy home which seemed never quieted down with merry barks from their dogs. For their talk of celebrating their only son's birthday with heartwarming gifts and cake — the completely different kind to what he received from his foster father.

In a way, Shogo knew this world was not his place to be.

And so he was leaving. He had to. And so he told them he could not stay the night. He was contradicting himself from earlier, but he did not care.

This was not the place for him to be. This was not the world in which he could stay…even though, deeply, he very much wished it.

And so he ran…

…And he began to fall.

.

_The old religions say angels fall from the sky._  
_He has never been a religious person —_  
_For religions these days have all died._  
_He only saw that snow-white beauty fall_  
_But is it true that angels are androgynous?_

**VI. The Hero**

He saw it all. How the other boy had given the girl the melon bread. How the other boy had asked the girl to be his girlfriend. It surprised him how easily the girl had accepted. Yet, somehow, the little girl seemed as if she was more humoring herself. Strange hair color, wearing summer dress; the girl was indeed strange. Still, there was something about her — probably her remaining scent — that made him linger in that empty place even when the other boy and the strange girl had already left.

It could be just minutes. It could be hours. He did not know how long he stayed there, but he supposed it was not that long since he heard no alarm from his mother. The sky darkened. It was getting colder. His shoes left vivid prints on the playground's sand as he turned to make his leave. The misty weather made the streets slippery. His dark eyes scanned the rows of trees that banked the dark water of the nearby river. With weather like this, he guessed the water would be near frozen though he could imagine some daring kids jumping merrily into it in summer.

So it surprised him to see someone fly with a consequent splash. Obsidian-colored eyes widened as he rushed toward the bank. It was the _girl_!

She was falling, sinking down and down. One moment, she floated up. The next moment, she sank. And she continued to sink, down and down. She was about to drown. She could not swim.

The young boy gritted his teeth, as he stripped. Coldness bit into his skin and stung until his entire body felt as if under the curse of paralysis. Yet, he still moved. He swiftly moved, diving into the freezing water, swimming toward the drowning girl. Even at eight, Shinya was already a good swimmer. As best as he could, he swam and swam, and eventually, he reached her.

Circling an arm around the girl's petite body, he struggled his way toward the bank. For a moment, he thought they both would drown. The girl was still breathing, but the look in her eyes was that of someone already given up. It was strange how someone so young would give up clinging to life…

"Life is precious. Why don't you fight?" He heard himself ground out to the girl. And despite her weakened state, he was almost certain he could see her lips move, repeating what he had said. Shinya did not know how long it took when they made it to the bank, both shivering. He only knew they made it.

And he was holding the fallen angel close in his arms even though he could not be sure what it was between 'her' legs that he had accidentally touched during the frantic moment earlier.

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**Epilogue**

The clock struck midnight and Nobuchika was turning eight. He had the best gifts from his family: a bottle of old coins from countries already ceased to exist from his father, a homemade cake baked with love and his favorite toppings from his mother, a lick from their old dog, Ron, and a happy birthday song the family sang together. Yet, November 21, 2092 was still somewhat a lonely day. Beside him was an empty chair reserved earlier for his once girlfriend. He was pretty sure the silver-haired girl had already left him.

After the girl ran off, Nobuchika tried to follow. The girl was fast with her running, and he was too slow to catch up. It was too late then when he had discovered her already fallen into the freezing river. Fortunately, another boy was strong enough to save her. And Nobuchika had to admit: if it had been him who had found her first in that river, he was not sure whether he could have survived trying to save her.

He was so young, yet he was old enough to feel that pang of jealousy seeing how the other boy held his once girlfriend in those arms. Still, it was his loss, and he had to accept it.

His father gave him a look of pity and understanding. It was, after all, Masaoka Tomomi who took care of the rest after having found the two wet and shivering _boys_. Of course, he would never tell Nobuchika the truth. Instead, he asked: "Say, what do you wish for for your birthday, child?"

The young Nobuchika paused, thinking a little, then firmly replied:

"I'm putting muscles on my wish list now, Dad."

"Good choice. I'll be looking forward to your next girlfriend, Nobuchika."

Sadly, Ginoza Nobuchika had had no more girlfriend after that incident. It was even sadder, though, to think that, in fact, he never really had a _girl_friend.

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**Fin**

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November 21, 2112

Senguji Toyohisa watched as a silver-haired male emerged from the clear water of the mansion's swimming pool, bulging cyborg eyes trailing over the male's body with utmost fascination. "It amazes me how much you like swimming, Makishima-kun. Even in weather like this."

The silver-haired male chuckled as he wiped the soaking bangs from his eyes. "The statement is also unlikely coming from you."

The cyborg laughed and reached for his liquor, savoring the burning taste that stimulated his still human brain quite nicely. "I understand how pushing one's body close to its limit blesses one with the great moment of living."

"Ah, it does," replied the silver-haired male, a sensuous smile gracing his dewy lips. "To live is the rarest thing in this world. Most people exist, that is all."

"Hmm…Oscar Wilde, wasn't it? Now, when do I get to enjoy my hunt?"

"You have to wait a little while longer. It takes time to decide whether life is indeed _precious_."

"You are too secretive sometimes, Makishima-kun."

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**Happy Birthday,**

**Nobubu & Itakoaya**

**November 21, 2013**

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[1] Makishima's birthday is never officially stated. I took the liberty of applying the fan belief that his birthday is in October, and that he is a year younger than Kougami and Ginoza.

[2] Masaoka was decommissioned in 2093, which is a year after this story's settings.

[3] The official profiling information can be found on my Tumblr. You can find the link in my profile.

**Reviews are, as always, highly appreciated. **


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